


Acumen

by Amand_r



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, porn battle challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:12:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amand_r/pseuds/Amand_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's coat.  Naked.  The invisible lift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acumen

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts for the pron battle were "telepathy, toys, and the plass". I chose the first and last here.

So it was cold. Freezing, in fact, and the coat didn't do much, not when you were barefoot and naked under it. But the lining was silken against his skin, and it wasn't freezing, really, or his dick would be all soft and impossible to get hard. As it was, he watched a woman in a light jacket trot past on her way to get something. Her eyes cut to him and then looked away, like he wasn't saluting her with his cock.

She had a nice arse; he watched openly while he toyed with himself, the wool sleeve of his coat rubbing against his belly when he squeezed the base of it and waved it at her, 'Hi there, wanna fuck?'

 _Nice arse. I'd like to fuck that arse._

He played with his foreskin and thought about what that felt like more then he actually felt it, and that was kind of hot too, if he thought about it. Thinking about what things felt like was almost sexier than feeling them sometimes, like watching porn instead of having sex.

A couple walked by him and stopped right in front of him, looked around or through him to the fountain. The man produced a camera and gestured, and the woman hopped up on the paving stone next to his and posed. He closed the flaps of the coat and glanced away. He really didn't want to see what photo when the film came back from the developers. Thank god it wasn't a digital camera.

It was enough to almost make him soft, but when the woman jumped off the stone and into her man's arms, he grabbed her face for a kiss and right there in plain sight she put her hand down his trousers. Huh.

 _You covered up that gorgeous cock. Let's see it._ Jesus, it was like a sunburst in his brain, but covered in warm puppies or something. Puppies and lightning, but not in the bad crispy critter way. He opened the coat again and smirked at the camera off to the right and up.

 _Oh, lovely. I want you to grab it in your palm, you have lovely fingers. Touch yourself like you like to be touched. Like you're showing me. Teach me how to touch you._

He fisted himself, raised his other hand and stroked the exposed head as he pulled the foreskin down, rolled the pad of his thumb on the wetness barely present at the tip and smoothed it over until it had dried away. When his thumb stuttered he thought about it for a split second, then licked his thumb and slid it back over, teasing the hole in his prick with the blunt edge of his fingernail. That made him rock up onto his toes for a second.

 _Very interesting. Hey, look at those three._

He opened his eyes, odd only because he hadn't known that they were shut, and watched three teenage girls stroll across the Plass in their skin-tight jeans, cunts outlined in the denim, probably slick and wet, the material probably smelled inside, the elastic beribboned straps to their thongs riding up on their hips. Those shirts barely covered anything they ought to, the lace of their bras pressed against the thin material, and under all that, still, the teasing outline of nipples hard with the coldness of the wind off the bay.

 _I wonder what that would be like, to have one of them peg you,_ the voice said in his head, smooth scotch and velvet and a little bit of sexy tartness, like sucking on a key to your lover's hotel room. _The one on the left with the dye job, she's the pegger, and the one on the middle would suck you._ The voice laughed. _I'd keep the redhead to myself. For the first round. I notice that you're not touching yourself._

He resumed the stroking, almost shivered until he realised that he wasn't cool, really, except that the soles of his feet felt the dampness of the paving stone beneath him. He bit his lip and thought about her, that red head. The other two would fuck and suck him, and he could watch the red head on the Hub couch, maybe while she was being ridden, and the way her breasts would bounce, that cock slamming in and out of her like an old movie reel of car pistons, a metaphor for sex.

[A train entering a tunnel, a banana being peeled], maybe.

He was back to watching porn, and not having it. He pumped his cock a few times more, squeezing harder before stopping to pulse a rhythm, and then start again, jerking too hard, and that was a sharp pain, but that was good too, all right, [like being licked by a cat].

 _Oh, you like the rough stuff,_ the voice said. _I hadn't been sure about that. I'd thought about maybe using my teeth a little next time. Ooh, make that face again._ He tried to repeat what he was doing, but he didn't remember. _Oh , you're about to come, aren't you? Don't let me stop you._

He came out onto the Plass, come spitting from his dick onto the paving stone and the cement beyond a little bit, a few drops, a movie reel of a train engine blasting steam from the release valve, [one of those fake jizz balls they used on the porno webcams]. His feet were cold and he could feel the hair on his legs, and when he let go of his cock the air rushed in and if he hadn't been starting to go soft it would have done a good job by itself.

A man walked by, in a hurry, in a hurry, stepped right in his spunk, tracked it a few feet away.

He was thinking of wiping his hands on the outside of the coat when the lift started to move and he had to steady himself at the unexpected descent. _I have you,_ the voice said. [A cup of coffee.] _And wipes_.

He took off the coat as the lift clanked into place in the moorings, and before he could even jump off, the man was waiting for him. "Masterful."

 _This telepathy thing better wear off soon,_ he told Ianto, who took the coat from him and draped it over his arm, even as his eyes streaked across Owen's bare chest and cock. "Not that I don't" _find it bloody_ "useful," he added.

Ianto nodded, one corner turning up as he picked at a bit of lint on Jack's spare coat, the one he'd left when he'd buggered off. Owen wondered what else they could get up to in it. He'd like to fuck Gwen while wearing it, and she might let him. [Tosh fucking Gwen in it.] That would be something to see.

 _I don't think_ "they'd be up to it," Ianto said as he turned and picked up the cup of coffee from the ledge before swiveling and offering it to Owen. _Though I have always_ "wondered if one could sit on the lift with one's legs" _off it and still go unnoticed_ , "but," [image of eating out Gwen's gorgeous unshaven cunt right there, legs in the air] _if we ever could convince her or_ [Tosh attached to his cock at the mouth].

Owen blinked. "I hate telepathy," he told Ianto, who closed the distance and grabbed his soft prick before twisting it a little. [[Last night] written in red neon above the bed when Ianto'd nailed him to the mattress, midnight double feature.]

"No, you don't."

 _You're right, I don't._

END


End file.
